


Soft Currents

by Satakas



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fix-it fic, M/M, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, but like only for one chapter later on, but only i dont fix a character death just a few weird specific things, carolina being a bro bc i adore the idea that her and maine were best friends, i dont know why i can't get over this ship, mild slow burn, starts off nice and sweet but dont worry there is plenty of angst to go around later :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satakas/pseuds/Satakas
Summary: Washington recalls how he found, and lost the love of his life.
Relationships: The Meta | Agent Maine/Agent Washington
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. Small Things

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to rewatch RVB, and proceeded to get obsessed with this pairing all over again  
> decided fuck it i'm just gonna make a several chapter fic after not writing a single fanfiction for years  
> hope you enjoy!!!!  
> (ps i know this is thousands of years after the xbox and the tv series friends leave me alone)

Moving quarters was a strange transition for Washington, and while he worked hard to climb the ranks of Project Freelancer, there was a certain sadness in leaving his old room behind. Iowa helped him to move his things from their shared space, remarking that he would miss him. Adding in the obligatory “no homo” afterwards, of course. Washington only laughed, underneath his relaxed demeanor, his anxiety came in waves, one moment convincing himself he could handle it, the next worried he’d be knocked off the leader board within days. It didn’t help when he discovered who his new roommate would be. The Freelancer agent by the codename of Maine. Notorious strength and unrelenting bloodthirst. Or so he had heard. So far, Washington had only seen Maine at work from a distance while sparring.

Their quarters were small, the size of a humble living room with two twin sized mattresses placed on either side. The only storage space was underneath their beds, and under a small square coffee table at the edge of the room. Two metal foldout chairs were propped against the wall, if you wanted to watch the TV provided that was set on the coffee table. Freelancers were allowed to keep some movies to watch, Iowa kept a series set of Friends, and quite a lot of porn, which Washington wished he had the decency to hide at least. As he looked over the room he noticed Maine’s side of their quarters to be noticeably bare. Iowa kept pictures from home pinned to the wall beside his bed, with his clothing haphazardly thrown about. This room was cold and grey, the metal walls surrounding him closing in as he finished unpacking. It only served to fuel his anxiety over his new roommate.

But over time he discovered that outside of battle, there wasn’t much to fear about Maine.

The brute largely kept to himself, and while Washington had expected him to spend his time doing...well...something spooky, like...sharpening knives, honestly, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t what he got. Maine mostly read, in fact, keeping several books tucked underneath his bed. Washington could have swore they were romance novels, but he would never have the guts to ask. On the cover of the book, a chiseled shirtless man holding a woman close... he had considered taking a peek once Maine had left the room, but in fear of being caught, decided heavily against it. A couple of months went by like this, nights spent in complete silence, besides the soft noises from the TV. Freelancers were allowed a few things from home, pictures, books, perhaps a journal if they wanted, or knitting needles maybe. Luckily for Agent Washington, he was allowed his xbox. A way sweeter deal than he got in his UNSC days. Granted, he couldn’t play with people online, for obvious reasons, he didn’t have access to any new games, which was kind of a bummer, but the few games he did have served just as well. Only with Iowa gone, he didn’t have anyone to play with anymore. In fact, Maine hadn’t so much as spoken a word to him, all he gave was a low grunt when Washington, for the first and last time, tried to start a conversation. 

Despite the silence, Washington had grown somewhat comfortable in it. While they didn’t get much leisure time, between assignments, sparring, learning about A.I, and the number of other requirements of the program, when it did happen, the routine was welcome. Washington would boot up the TV, and Maine would plant himself comfortably on his bed after pulling the book from under. Only, on a few occasions, Washington could catch Maine watching him play Call Of Duty from the corner of his eye. He had wondered if Maine was interested in playing with him, perhaps he had too much pride to ask. Not that Washington was eager to offer, so instead he played quietly, only muttering angrily under his breath when he lost. Admittedly, Zombie mode was...quite hard, playing all by yourself. It wasn’t until another month later that Washington realized how invested Maine seemed to be in watching him play. One night, as Washington was finishing up, he arose from his chair and turned towards his bed to see Maine, laying with his back propped up against the wall, arms crossed, looking at the screen with no book in sight. Agent Maine didn’t seem particularly ashamed of this, only rolling over once Washington finally went to turn off the TV.

It was another week before the two found themselves quietly rolling back into their routine. Agent Maine took his place on his bed, while Washington booted up his xbox in silence. Only this time, he slipped his extra controller from the drawer and set it on the edge of the coffee table, towards Maine’s side of the room. He didn’t say anything, only left it visible, and began playing his game. After an hour Washington had any doubts of Maine picking it up, but lo and behold, the other man slowly moved from his bed. Without a word he took the other foldout chair that was resting on the wall, and took a seat. Washington couldn’t help but to smile a little. Maybe now he wouldn’t suck so bad playing zombies. They played for a few hours in silence, and much to Washington’s delight, Maine wasn’t so terrible. They got further than Washington ever got by himself at least. That was until Maine apparently decided he was tired, set down his controller, and went to bed. Washington took note and crawled into his bed as well, feeling quite satisfied with himself. 

They continued like this, Maine joining him after an hour or two of reading, then hopping on to carry Washington through the game. The two had gotten quite good at it, despite the lack of communication. Washington learned to read his cues, or give his own direction, and even though it never got a verbal response from Maine, the other man seemed to listen and follow suit. Maine seemed to be enjoying this time as well, enough to get a new game sent in to them. The larger man walked through the mess hall, fully armored, and tossed the game on the table in front of Washington. He let out a short grunt, and then headed towards the sparring room. 

“Annnnd what’s all that about?” York asked, reaching towards the game before Washington could grab it. He held it up, reading the title out loud and chuckling.   
“I mean, we play together, sometimes. I guess this means he’s tired of Call Of Duty” Washington said as he jabbed his spoon into the bowl of mixed vegetables sitting before him.  
“You guys...play...together? Wow. So when’re y’gonna exchange friendship bracelets?”   
“Haha. Funny.” Washington rolled his eyes. “He hasn’t said an actual word to me since we started sharing a room. Definitely not friends. He probably just got tired of watching me lose”  
“Yeah, that sounds a little more likely. Still, hard to imagine Maine loosening up for...well...anything. It’s near midnight and he’s still going to train?” York yawned, setting the game back down on the table, “Speaking of which, I’m gonna hit the hay. Busy day tomorrow, I’m on recon with Wyoming, wish me luck, by tomorrow night I’ll only be able to speak in knock-knock jokes”

Washington finished his food as he watched the senior Freelancer head off to his quarters, turning the game over to read the description. He hadn’t actually heard of this one, but was curious nonetheless. He stood, heading at first towards his own room, but instead stopped and turned in the other direction. The walk toward the observation room was quiet, not many awake now as life on The Mother Of Invention started early in the morning. Or whatever you considered early to be in the middle of space. To his surprise, Maine was training alone. Washington was expecting to find Carolina with him, the two often sparring one another, as Carolina’s skill was probably the only thing that could out match Maine’s strength. But there he was, alone. Washington stood and watched for a few minutes, before he saw Agent Maine’s gaze shift up to the deck. Maine stopped moving for a moment, entirely still, before walking across to an access box on one side of the room. _“Suit up.”_ Were the first words Maine ever uttered to Washington, and the last for a while.

For the next couple of hours Washington trained in hand to hand combat with Maine, almost regretting the decision. Not that he really could have refused. Agent Maine was relentless, and obviously leagues better in combat than Washington could ever hope to be. Despite this, he found Maine to be quite helpful and patient. Without words he would direct Washington, correcting his stance, or showing him how to better execute an attack. Of course Washington was not thrilled to be the example when Maine showed him how to do so, yet he found Maine to be quite a proficient teacher, and felt proud when he was able to successfully copy the larger freelancer. 

This became a regular occurance, the two practicing together late into the night, and while Washington was far from beating Maine, he did feel as though he was beginning to improve. Slowly. It wasn’t until a couple weeks later that Washington suspected that Maine had opted to practice with Washington for a reason when the two were assigned a recovery mission together, along with Agent North Dakota. Washington theorized Agent Maine wanted to make sure he wasn’t entirely incompetent before working with him. It was a fairly straightforward assignment, easy, in fact, Washington thought they likely didn’t want to throw him into something too risky quite yet. He was still pretty fresh, considering the fact that before he earned a place on the leaderboard, low ranking freelancers rarely got assigned any missions at all. After the briefing, the three freelancers headed to the locker room in relative silence, only North remarking that he was looking forward to finally getting to see Washington in action. Washington was not so excited, but also he was, but not really, kind of. Mostly nervous. North and Maine were big shots, at least in his eyes. But hey, could be worse, Carolina could be here instead of North. Washington shuddered at the thought. Fucking up in front of Carolina would undoubtedly be worse than fucking up in front of Maine or North. 

The three were airdropped into the middle of a dense forest 20 klicks north of a base on a remote planet. Apparently UNSC insurrectionists got their hands on a bit of military intel, nothing terribly classified, but the UNSC didn’t want them to get even the slightest upperhand. Luckily the insurrectionist squad who got hold of this information had to make an emergency landing, and even luckier, in the middle of practically nowhere. While this meant it had taken a couple weeks to track down exactly where the insurrectionists landed, it also meant the insurrectionists were having trouble getting the information to their higher ups. With the element of surprise in their corner, retrieving this intel from the relatively small base was going to be fairly simple. Only in order to keep this element of surprise, they would have to walk 12.4 miles mostly uphill, it would take a better part of the day in their armour, but they did have the shade of the trees on their side at least. Washington was grateful for that much, though he quickly came to realize Agent Maine and Agent North Dakota were not keen on any breaks at all, much to the dismay of Agent Washington. Washington wanted to ask why they weren’t given a jeep, but figured it would only warrant a simple answer that would make him feel stupid from North, and none at all from Maine. 

After five hours of walking, the trio stopped, and North motioned to Washington to join him and Maine as they gathered by a large tree.   
“We’re getting close. They’ll have to have guards on rotation from this point on, you two need to tread carefully. Don’t want to alert them before you even get there” North pointed up towards the top of the tree. Washington made a mental note of the pure dad energy radiating from Agent North, “I ran recon on this place a few days ago, so I’ll be walking you guys through the area via a secure channel on our radios.”  
Washington couldn’t help but feel like most of this briefing was directed towards him. He said nothing, though he was quite certain North and Maine could feel his unease regardless.   
“You’re gonna do great. Just follow Maine’s lead, and you’ll be fine,” Oh yeah, North definitely could sense it, “And Maine, remember, stealth, at least until you enter the building, I’m not doubting your ability to crack some skulls but-” he was unable to finish his sentence, as Maine took it upon himself to begin moving through the forest again. North simply sighed and made his way up into the tree he had gestured to a moment ago. Washington watched as North gracefully climbed, and despite the heavy amour, he marveled at how nimble he was. Like a squirrel made man. 

Washington turned and hurried his way towards where Maine was. Almost immediately he heard North’s voice in his ear. _I’m sending the coordinates for where they likely keep the intel. We hadn’t known about this base until five days ago, so we weren’t able to pin anything down definitively. To cover all our bases you’ll make a few stops on the way to their control room, places we thought it might be if for whatever reason we were wrong. The layout of their base is fairly simple, and doesn’t seem to be heavily guarded, since they don’t know that we know about this place. You’ll be coming up to their first perimeter, stay out of sight and don’t take anyone else out unless you need to. Make sure they don’t see you first. There shouldn’t be more than four insurrectionists circling at once, so at most you’d come into contact with two._

Seemed easy enough. Washington did think it odd though to send their biggest freelancer on a stealth mission. Perhaps this was because if the entire facility went on full alert, they would need some heat. _Alright, you’re in the clear for a while, but you’re getting close. You’ll be approaching the north side of the building barred by a chain link fence, you won’t be able to climb it, but it shouldn’t be hard to cut through. This is where you need to be really careful. Hope you’re confident with that sniper, Wash. You’ll have to be quick if you’re going to get all four posted on the rooftop. Once you’ve hit the roof, radio me._ Washington rolled his shoulders back, trying to get rid of some of the tension he felt building. He wasn’t so terrible with the sniper, but there wasn’t normally anything at stake. As long as he didn’t overthink it, he was sure it would be fine...or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. 

Once they approached the chain link fence, Maine threw up a hand, prompting Washington to stop suddenly. Without needing the next direction, he moved his back against a nearby tree, peeking his head around to take a look at his targets. Just as North said, four insurrectionists stood, two on the roof, two floor level. Shooting through the holes in the fence wasn’t ideal, but if he could keep his hand steady he would still make the hit. Slowly he unlatched the sniper strapped to his back, noticing Maine’s fixed gaze on him. Oh yeah, that didn’t make him nervous at all. It wasn’t until that moment that things clicked. This assignment was an opportune moment for the Director to see what he could do, that the last stunt that landed him on the leaderboard wasn’t dumb luck. Maine and North were just there to babysit. Washington felt the weight of the situation on his shoulders for what it was now, that if he fucked this up he was right back at the bottom. For a moment the helplessness was overwhelming, suffocating, and then all at once it was nothing at all. Washington took the first two shots with ease, bottom left then bottom right, bullets flying through the holes in the fence seamlessly, the bodies of the two insurrectionists falling back with only a gentle thump. In comparison, the two insurrectionists atop the building were much easier targets, nothing obscuring them from view. Agent Maine let out a grunt of approval...or at least Washington thought it was. It sounded different from his regular grunts. Washington was feeling rather pleased with himself regardless. 

The two freelancers quickly made their way to the fence, Maine pulling out a small pair of wire cutters. He only had to make two cuts in the fence before he was able to use his strength to rip a hole. Washington was surprised he needed the wire cutters at all, though he supposed without setting specific weak points, Maine might just tear down the whole thing on accident. They made their way to the building, grappling up the side as Washington informed North on their progress. _Alright. Head to the third floor. Once you’re there you’ll want to enter the second room to your left, and then the sixth room to your right. Maine will run through the systems for what we’re looking for. If it’s not there then it must be in the control room, all the way at the end of the hall. Try not to make too much noise._

Only, the intel wasn’t located in any of the rooms at all, and they were running out of time. 

“North, it’s Wash. It’s not here. It’s not anywhere. There isn’t any place else it could be?” Click. And then silence for a few moments. “North.”  
“I know, I know. I was relaying the information back to The Mother Of Invention. The only other option is that one of the insurrectionists has it on them. Likely on some sort of drive, but there’s no way for us to know exactly who. There wasn’t a lot of information that could be gathered on this place.”  
“So you’re telling me we took a shot in the dark?”   
“No- I- Well...I mean kinda, yeah. There’s nothing we can do about it now though, unless somehow you and Maine think you could clear out the whole place, which I don’t find likely. Orders are to head back to the pick up site.”  
“That fast? There isn’t anything we can-” Washington stopped, approaching the unconscious body of the soldier on the floor. He heard North say his name a few times, but chose to ignore it. He picked up the I.D badge pinned to the soldier and headed towards the access box.  
“This is Briggs, down in the control room. I was able to get a clean connection off planet, only for a second but I’m thinking I could get it back online, at least long enough to get that intel into the right hands.” Washington wasn’t quite sure who he had radioed, and was hoping this wouldn’t backfire.  
“Uhhh yeah, but why did you radio me? Shouldn’t you be talking to Kolbe?”  
Whoops. “It doesn’t matter right now!” Washington gave a painful grunt, Maine knocking with his shoulder, and Washington could only imagine the incredulous look he must be giving him under that helmet. Washington threw his arms up in exasperation and then drew his attention back at the radio, “Listen, just get someone up here!” 

After the disgruntled insurrectionist signed off with an _Okay, Okay fine, jeez…_ the two freelancers both seemed to have the same idea, looking around for some place to hide. They looked back to each other, and at nearly the exact same moment, Washington lagging behind by half a second, the two took their places against the wall on either side of the door. Then they waited, only, they weren’t expecting the numbers they got.

Within moments of the door opening Agent Maine was moving, his arms raised above his hand, arms swinging downwards to slam against the skull of the first insurrectionist through the door with the butt of his gun. Washington grimaced, thinking that hit most definitely killed him, or at least gave him some pretty serious brain damage. There wasn’t much time to think after this, shots immediately beginning to fly. Everything happened so quickly, Washington’s body seemingly going into auto-pilot. One, two, three, four, five...six, maybe seven. And before the next two were down the alarms had been set, red lights flashing overhead. Washington rolled behind one of the consoles to the side of the room, he took aim, and then fired. Another two down, one, two, three....and the third was at his back. Before he could process how it had even happened, an arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a choke hold. Washington swung his leg behind the leg of the insurrectionist, tripping him, causing them both to hit the floor suddenly. His helmet bounced against the cold hard floor, stunning him for a moment, but effectively causing the insurrectionist to release his hold. Maybe not the best way to get out of a choke hold, but it worked well enough. He turned quickly, firing a round directly into the head of the soldier. He stopped for a moment after, having killed before, but never in such close proximity. Taking a sharp breath he turned his head towards Maine, who was currently disarming the last of the insurrectionists, only…

_“Maine!”_ Washington rushed to disarm the insurrectionist that was slowly rising from the ground, handgun raised, pointed at Maine. He grabbed his arm, struggling with the man on the floor for a moment before, pop. Washington barely registered the pain before Maine’s foot came crashing into the skull of the insurrectionist. Before Agent Maine could lower himself to where Washington had fallen, Washington shook his head, “No, check the bodies first! They wouldn’t of sent so many up unless they had something to protect, one of them has to have it. I’m fine, it’s just my leg, _go_ ”

Agent Maine rummaged around the bodies for a moment, checking pockets before finally finding what they were looking for. He tucked the small black drive away and without even asking if Washington could walk, scooped him up and slung him over his shoulder.

“Okay, well, you don’t have to hold me like tha- ow, fuck!” Washington groaned and submitted to his fate as Agent Maine made his way through the halls. Oddly, there was not as much resistance as they would of thought in the halls, and they soon figured out why. When the two freelancers finally reached the stairs, there stood North, a line of corpses trailing both up and down the staircase.  
“I came as fast as I could, now do you wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Disappointed dad energy, Washington thought, but remained quiet.   
“Later.” Agent Maine grunted, moving past North and up the stairs.   
“Did you at least-”  
“Yes.”   
North groaned, following Maine to the roof.

Soon, all three were on an airship back to The Mother Of Invention. Washington was immediately taken to the medical room and treated for a gunshot wound to the leg upon their return. North visited him soon after, as well as the triplets, who were totally psyched to hear the details of his awesome mission, until they were ushered off. The high of his success wore off quickly though, as the Director and the Counselor stepped into the room.

“You do realize, of course, that you took a great risk,” The Director began, in his usual belittling tone, “and while it paid off, you ignored direct orders.”   
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, I only thought-”  
“Save it. You keep your place on the leaderboard, for now.” While the Director took his leave, the Counselor lingered a moment.  
“Tread lightly, Agent Washington, we wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened in your time with the UNSC.” Was that a threat? Washington couldn’t tell, but he figured he must have done something right, or they wouldn’t have let him off the hook so quickly. 

After a night in the med bay they allowed him to return to his room, though it would take a little while to heal completely, he was able to make his way to his quarters. Luckily the bullet didn’t hit any arteries or cut through any bone, so nerve damage would be minimal and he’d be up to speed in no time. As he walked down the hall he passed York, who gave him a pat on the back, as well as Agent Florida who made sure to let him know that he was there if he needed anything. Washington only gave a tight-lipped and smile and nodded. When he finally entered his room he found Agent Maine nestled in his bed with a book as always. Even though it was only one night, he found himself greatly relieved to be back in this comfortable silence. He couldn’t help but to smile, as he plopped down onto his bed, his gaze lingering on Maine for a moment. For a man he used to, and still kind of was, terrified of, he looked...peaceful, sitting there. Washington couldn’t help but to imagine what Maine was like as a child, quiet, well-mannered...gentle, not loud and boisterous like most other children. He wondered if he had always liked to read. Snapping out of his daze, he turned and rested his back against the wall, towards the TV, closing his eyes. He felt a thump on his bed a moment later and opened his eyes to one of the xbox controllers resting at his side. Maine turned on the TV, and then sat on the edge of his own bed, controller in hand.   
“Thanks.” Was all Maine had to say, and Washington understood. He picked up the controller, and smiled.


	2. Measured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You unbuttoned your shirt and I looked at your heart,  
> Then you showed me your lungs, yeah, you pulled them apart,  
> And I echoed it back and for what its worth,  
> I think we've been measured out for pain since birth."  
> -Measured, Common Holly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so for some reason i can write a 4,000 word fic but i can't write a 1,000 word essay for college  
> i spent way too much time describing the outfits of the freelancers but it was really fun so im not sorry
> 
> the next chapter will be out very soon!

“Hey, can I ask you something?” 

Maine turned his gaze to Washington, who was sitting in the chair beside him, controller in hand.

“They told me they couldn’t get any new games ordered up here,” Washington frowned, “so how’d you get one?”

Maine made an unusual sound, a deep, rumble from his chest, that Washington had begun to understand as laughter. A certain pride filled Washington whenever he watched Maine’s lips curl up into a smile, he knew it was a hard task to accomplish. “You know what, for my own sake, I’m gonna let this one go.”

A room that once felt cold and unwelcoming to Agent Washington was now his greatest comfort. The silence between the two was easy, but he slowly learned that Maine wasn’t incapable of listening. They didn’t always talk, Washington didn’t always have something to say, but when he did, Maine might have something to say back. Not much, usually, sometimes nothing at all, but that wasn’t so important. What was important was that he knew Maine was _listening_ , observing, taking notes. At first he wasn’t so sure, but after Washington offhandedly mentioned he used to skateboard, he found one in his locker a week later, as well as a copy of one of those Tony Hawk skateboarding games. His head immediately whipped around to where Maine stood at his locker, to find Maine looking back at him. Washington raised his hand in the air, giving Maine the “shaka” or “hang loose” sign, grinning. Maine returned the gesture with a straight face, causing Washington to involuntarily throw his head back in laughter, prompting York to ask what was so funny. Washington told him he wouldn’t get it, and got back to suiting up. This was the most the two ever “discussed” the skateboard, words weren’t really needed.

“What’s your name?” Maine asked one night, in the middle of one of their gaming sessions. Washington was taken aback, stopping for a moment to turn and look at him. He supposed it wasn’t that crazy to ask, he knew the names of the triplets, and they knew his. Of course none of them ever called each other by their first names, _ever_ , since the rules about that were pretty strict. He didn’t know any of the names of the other freelancers though, and didn’t expect to. Washington was mostly just surprised that Maine cared enough to actually ask him...out loud…with words. 

“Uh- David, sorry,” Washington realized he was quiet for too long, “What’s uhm, what’s your name?”

“Liam. Don’t apologize.” Maine didn’t look away from the TV. The two didn’t speak for several more hours. It wasn’t until the two were tucked into bed, the lights off, the room pitch black, no sound but the gentle breathing of the other freelancer.

“Maine?” Washington didn’t expect an answer, thinking the other was fast asleep, until he answered with a short grunt. Wash turned over, tucking his arm underneath his pillow, propping his head up a little. “Where uh...where are you from?” 

“Earth.”

“Yeah, okay well, where specifically?” Washington figured this could be a fruitless endeavor, and to be honest, he didn’t know why he cared so much. Knowing Maine’s name made things different somehow. It made them feel like friends, or something like that at least.

“You’ll pester me for more answers no matter what I say, I assume,” Maine exhaled heavily, although it didn’t sound like an annoyed sigh. It was more thoughtful, reflective. Relaxed. “Missouri. Born, raised, by my mother. No siblings. Nothing note-worthy.”

“ _Nothing?_ There wasn’t a single thing?”

“...My mother was ill. Not physically. I grew up fast.” Washington heard Maine turn to face him, or maybe away from him as they spoke. “You had siblings.” 

“Is it that obvious? Sisters, yeah. I grew up...slow, I guess, but then all at once. I’m...sorry about your mother. Is she alive?” 

“No. I enlisted as soon as she died.” Maine spoke softly, Washington for the first time clearly hearing him speak. His voice sounded like driving on a gravel road, but unlike the _actual_ experience of driving on gravel, Washington found it quite nice.

“You had to take care of her, you thought you’d be doing that the rest of your life. You didn’t have anything planned, so when she died, your only option was the military.” 

“...you’re smarter than they give you credit for.”

“Oh well than- wait what? Who is ‘they’?” Washington frowned, Maine’s laugh-grunt filling the room, a little fuller now than it had been earlier that night. “No really! C’mon!” The only answer he was given was ‘goodnight’. 

The next time the two spoke, the tone had shifted drastically. Washington had stormed into his quarters, still suited, violently flinging his helmet from his head. It ricocheted off the closet wall, and rolled gently to Agent Maine’s feet. Without words the two stared at each other for a moment, Washington not expecting Maine to be here during this time, he normally wasn’t. Yet here he was, dressed casually in baggy grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt that hugged his form tightly. Maine, relaxing, in the middle of the day? Washington wasn’t sure what to do, and none of the words that came to mind felt right. 

“David…” 

“No, don’t. Don’t use my name like I’m a child throwing a tantrum.” Washington’s embarrassment fueled the anger that had been caught in his throat, forcing it in Maine’s direction. “I’m tired of being treated like I’m fucking incompetent. _You’ve seen me_ , Maine, you know I’m not an idiot. But everyone treats me like I can barely hold a fucking gun! South complains constantly about how I slow her down, Carolina just _ignores_ me, and everyone else just laughs behind my back! Or in this case, to my fucking face!” 

Washington paced back and forth a few times in the space between their beds before Maine finally spoke up, Wash turning to look at him as he did. “Something happened.” 

“I-yeah…” Washington looked down at the ground, his face a little red now. “I….I...got a grappling hook stuck on my uhm...on my balls.” He spoke the last few words in barely a whisper, and then peered back at Maine without lifting his head. He was fucking smiling. “Fuck, not you too. Jesus fucking christ I know it was dumb but holy shit! I just...I’m just tired of fucking up. Even when I accomplish something no one seems to notice.”

“...do you think people like me?”

“What?” Washington blinked, plopping down on his bed now, across from Maine. “I...I-”

“They don’t. You know they don’t. You know what they say about me. Do you think this bothers me?”

“I’m not you, Maine. I don’t have the skill or reputation to just not give a shit.”

“Do you think they liked me before I gained my reputation?”

“...I didn’t think about that. I guess I can see why they wouldn’t. No offense.” Washington flopped back on his bed, sighing heavily as he closed his eyes. “You know...you’re a lot nicer than people think. I think people would like you a lot, if they got to know you. I do.”

“Nice.” Maine repeated the word as if it were foreign to him. 

The next week was the first time Washington was permitted to take shore leave with the other freelancers. Granted, they weren’t at sea, it was more like…space leave. Not everyone in the project was allowed to do so, namely...the triplets, in fear of them saying the wrong things to the wrong people. A set of rules came with this privilege, such as no drinking, no recreational drug use, ect. You also couldn’t identify yourself as an agent of Project Freelancer to civilians. Shore leave started at 1100 to 0200 the next morning. Which felt like it directly contradicted the “no drinking” rule. What else would they be doing at that time at night? Or maybe, Washington thought, they were accounting for some of the freelancers getting laid. The thought made him chuckle to himself as he boarded the airship that would take them down. It had been a while since he’d been back on Earth, he wondered if any of the freelancers were permitted to see family. Maybe he’d ask North later. 

They landed on a beach on the west coast, or close enough to the beach for Washington to smell the salt in the air as he stepped out of the ship. It was a warm day, the sky clear and the sun shining, a gentle breeze cooling them as they stood around the landing site. Washington looked to the other freelancers, remarking on how odd it felt to see them all so...casual. Usually when you weren’t armored up on the Mother of Invention, you were in whatever you slept in. North wore a pair of Birkenstocks with crew cut white socks, khaki shorts, and a floral short sleeved button up that he left open, with a white tank top underneath. Washington began to wonder if he was doing this dad thing on purpose. Agent Florida was wearing a similar getup only he was wearing a baby blue polo, with a light yellow sweater tied around his neck. South was dressed...oddly, like those vintage early 2000s photos, with her low rise boot cut jeans, and a form fitting half sleeve shirt. Agent York dressed like pretty much every other guy, regular jeans, some brand name t-shirt. Wyoming dressed like a fucking prick, black slacks, dark purple satin button up that he didn’t button all the way up, exposing a ridiculous amount of chest hair. CT was dressed comfortably in a pair of jeans and a dark blue hoodie with her hair tied up, and despite the simplicity of it, Washington thought she looked very nice. Carolina wore a pair of high waisted jeans and black combat boots, with a plain blue button up shirt tucked into her pants, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Seeing Carolina dressed casually was probably the weirdest thing he’d seen in a while. Maine however mostly looked like he normally did, grey sweatpants, only instead of a t-shirt, a black hoodie with some band logo on the front. 

The group began moving after a while towards the nearby boardwalk, Carolina seeming to lead the group while Washington hung towards the back. It felt nice to be outside without wearing a suit of metal, to feel the wind through his hair. He felt bad for a moment that the triplets weren’t allowed, though he understood the precautions, since the three did have pretty big mouths. 

It wasn’t long before Florida and Wyoming took off in the opposite direction as the rest of the group. Washington walked backwards for a moment as he watched them leave, squinting at them as they got further before turning back to the group. 

“Where are they going?” Washington asked York, jogging for just a moment to catch up.

“Oh, they like to head to the casino. Florida is a natural, which pisses Wyoming off since he never wins anything.” York laughed, “We, on the other hand, are heading to the bar. Unless you have something better to do. We usually snag a couple drinks together and then everyone kind of eventually splits off…”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to drink?” Washington knew that was a stupid inquiry the moment it left his mouth. York just laughed and gave Wash a slap to the back.

The bar they entered was located on the side of the boardwalk just by the beach, a small blue structure with a deck to the side of it, stairs leading directly onto the sand. It sported a typical nautical theme, wooden ships in glass bottles hanging from the walls, as well as a large fish tank at the back end of the room. It wasn’t particularly nice, the floors creaking as the group crossed to the bar, but it was cozy. There were few other patrons inside, the place seemed mostly empty. 

“Are we really gonna start drinking before noon?” Washington asked as he took a seat, his eyes drifting upwards to stare at the wall decorations.

“Well, I mean, we aren’t gonna get drunk _yet_. That comes later.” York grinned, and then turned to greet the bartender. They seemed very familiar with each other, in fact the bartender seemed very familiar with everyone. York began to “update” the man on what they had been up to, it seemed to Wash that he was under the impression they were just regular UNSC soldiers. They ordered a few drinks, though it didn’t take long before people started to go their own way. Carolina and Maine split, then South and North, leaving just Wash, CT, and York.

“Man, why does she always leave with him?” York groaned, downing the rest of his drink immediately. Washington didn’t say anything just stared down into his cup, a little confused. 

“Calm down, I don’t think they’re...like that. You know she likes you, she’s just…” CT paused, “She just takes things too seriously. Makes sense she stays around Maine, he’s not really a distraction.”

“A distraction,” York scoffed, “Yeah, I guess he’s not, since he barely talks. Sometimes I think he might be a robot. Wash- you room with Maine, is he a robot? Do you ever hear any strange beeping?” he smiled, bumping his shoulder into Wash’s arm.

“No...I mean I don’t think so anyway,” Washington chuckled, amused by the concept, “so…Carolina? Really?” 

“Yeah, really. She’s not so bad, we’re friends. And...maybe at one point we were almost more than that but...well, you know. There isn’t anything more important to her than Project Freelancer. I guess...I guess I just hope she, well- I don’t know. Thinks about me sometimes, at least. Like more than in a friendly way.” The three of them were silent for a moment, not sure what to say. Washington felt bad for York, Carolina wasn’t exactly the most emotionally available love interest. 

“Alright, enough sad shit. C’mon Wash, lets get this debby-downer out of the dumps.” CT stood abruptly, grinning at the two as she led their way out of the bar. 

The trio found their way to the first greasy food stand they could find, and ordered the unhealthiest items on the menu. As they three ate and talked, South and North found their way to them, North remarking that they had to take a little break since South got into a shouting match with a carnival game worker that she thought had rigged the game. South was still very insistent that he had, remarking that the whole thing was a huge scam. The twins hung out for a bit before making their way towards the beach. Washington then decided they were going to ride the ferris wheel, and would not take no for an answer. He couldn’t help but to smile for the entire ride as he watched the people below. CT, York and Washington laughed and talked the whole way back down, sharing old stories as Project Freelancer seemed to fade into the background of their minds altogether. 

For the next few hours the three spent their time playing carnival games, winning a few items here and there. And for the first time in a while, Washington felt a little like David again. 

“You should give that to Carolina.” Washington remarked, poking his finger into the large teddy bear York had won. The sun was just beginning to set now. “I mean, not like...with everyone around though. I feel like she wouldn’t take that super well. You gotta like- make an excuse to get her alone.”

“Yeah, okay but how would I hide the teddy bear in order to do that? It’s a huge giveaway!” York laughed, “I guess I could go drop it back at the landing site, and then give it to her when we are back on the Mother of Invention but…”

“That’s perfect! Listen, you just have to get to the ship faster than everyone else so you can hide it where they keep the rest of the cargo. Then when we land back on the Mother of Invention and everyone is heading to bed you just go ‘Carolina can I talk to you for a minute?’,” CT did her best York impression, causing Washington to laugh loudly, “and then, BAM! Cute teddy bear. And every time she sees it, she’ll think of you.”

“Actually...you know what, yeah, hold on, I’ll meet you guys back at the bar!” York smiled as he rushed off towards the landing site, waving with one hand.

“She better accept that bear or it’s totally our fault that it backfired.” CT and Wash exchanged a serious look, and then broke into laughter together. 

When CT and Washington made it back to the bar, North, South, Carolina and Maine were all there already, sitting around a table, drinks in hand. Just as the two pulled up chairs, York walked through the door, immediately ordering another round for the table. Washington learned a lot about the others in the next couple of hours. For example, South and Carolina could _drink_ , it almost felt like a competition, the two downing shot after shot, and even though South was definitely getting drunker than Carolina, she had no problem keeping up. Until North, who had only had a few beers, cut South off after getting a little heated over a card game. Sometime after this Wyoming and Florida joined their small party, Florida beginning to explain to Washington that- “he doesn’t drink!” - exclaimed everyone else before he could say it. Apparently he made a point to mention it every single time. Carolina was livelier than he’d seen before, and took up a conversation with York, which brought a smile to Washington’s face. Maine was quiet as usual, though Wash noted he was at least tipsy as the large man stumbled on his way to the bathroom. And Wash was...Wash was pretty shit-faced. CT largely announced this to the entire table, laughing at how red Washington got when he was drunk, which was a little embarrassing. Eventually things quieted down a little, and half of them had at some point ended up out on the deck, including Wash. 

Without realizing when he had zoned out, he found himself staring out at the ocean, swaying lightly with the wind. He stumbled off, down the stairs, kicking off his shoes as he hit the sandy beach below them. No one seemed to notice him leaving, not that Washington was particularly concerned. As Washington reached the water he clumsily sat down in the wet sand, unconcerned with it sticking to his pants. He brought his knees to his chest, staring out into the darkness for a moment before closing his eyes. It had been a while, and just when he thought he was done with it, the anxiety was back. He wasn’t even really sure why. Maybe it was because he was drunk, he was drunk and thinking about how much he had taken his civilian life for granted. Drunk and thinking about the _responsibility_ of it all. He couldn’t have just followed orders in the UNSC, couldn’t let those people die...and now he was involved in something much bigger than himself. The stakes were higher now. And as fast as the anxiety came to him, it left. There was no time for regret.

Finally, he opened his eyes, jumping a bit at the large figure standing next to him. After a moment his eyes adjusted to see Agent Maine, cigarette in one hand, the other stuffed into his hoodie pocket. 

“Shit- dude that’s bad for you.” Washington tripped over his words, “You uhm...sit.” he said, patting the space next to him in the sand. Maine did as instructed, the two sitting in silence for a moment, only the sound of the sea and music from the bar playing in the distance. 

“It’s a good excuse. To leave.” Maine said, short as usual.

“You don’t need an excuse, just go,” Washington gestured his hand outward toward the sea, “Everyone is too drunk to notice, anyway.” He flopped down onto his back, stretching his legs out so the water would wash up on his feet. After several more minutes of silence, Maine put his cigarette out on the wet sand, and then slowly laid back as well.

“Isn’t it cold? I mean, the sand, on your head? You don’t have any hair,” Washington laughed, “Why don’t you have any hair?”

“I shave it.” 

“Why?”

“It’s messy. I have a picture, I’ll show you, when we get back. Don't laugh.”

“Me? Pfft, never.” Washington turned his head now to look at Maine. It was probably because he was drunk. Drunk with the music playing faintly and the sea at their feet and the moonlight and the wind blowing gently. Drunk and staring at a man he usually only saw in the confines of a metal ship or with a helmet obscuring his face, he felt as though he was seeing _Liam_ for the first time. Before, yes, they were friends but still only soldiers. Here, they were just humans, even if it only lasted for a little while. David moved his hand over, pressing their palms together, sliding his fingers between Liam’s. When Liam didn’t return the gesture, David began to pull away, remarking that he must be _really drunk_ to do something like that. But then Liam grasped his hand tightly in return, intertwining their fingers together. Neither of them spoke, they only stared up at the sky together for what seemed like a very, very long time.


	3. Skyline To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Maine is still figuring it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to write a short maine POV so we could watch carolina expose him lmao  
> also i really didn't expect this to be slowburn but whoops i guess its kind of turning into that

The heavy artillery jeep swerved around the thick brush of the forest, jerking suddenly in either direction, the terrain causing the car to momentarily catch air, the force of the wheels hitting the ground again hard enough to cause considerable whiplash. The air was heavy with black smoke, Agent Maine only able to see a few feet in front of the car at any moment. As they found their way out of the thick clouds things seemed quiet, too quiet, and Maine was correct in thinking so. Several shots pierced their vehicle, and within seconds they were being trailed by several other cars. 

“Step on it, Maine!” Carolina shouted from the trunk of the jeep where she was standing, hands planted firmly on the machine gun attached to their vehicle. Maine didn’t really need the cue, he was going as fast as he could without any actual roads to follow. He thought this might work in their favor, but within seconds one of the enemy vehicles had moved up to their side. An insurrectionist soldier had jumped onto the side of the jeep, prompting Maine to reach over, slamming the head of the soldier into the side of the car, causing him to quickly lose his grip and get caught under the wheels. Agent Maine unholstered his magnum, firing several shots towards the vehicle next to them. Carolina left her position, climbing into the front seat next to Maine.

“This isn’t going to work, there’s too many of them. There!” Carolina pointed to a pair of trees in the distance, they were too close to pass between but...Maine got the idea, and nodded at Carolina. He would have to time the move just right, but he needed to get closer and their jeep was beginning to take heavy damage, smoke rising from the front and back of the vehicle now. He just needed to get a little closer...closer...and then, just six feet from their target, he swerved the car to its side so quickly that it began to roll violently, Agent Carolina and Maine flinging themselves from the jeep. Maine tumbled downhill, not able to see the carnage but very clearly registering the sound of an explosion behind him. When he finally stopped and arose from the ground, ears ringing from the impact, he looked up to see several cars piled up behind their own jeep that had gotten caught between the two trees. He was almost surprised that the insurrection soldiers didn’t see that coming. Weird, that I division of the military started to fight aliens, they found themselves fighting other humans more often than not.

Carolina was quickly at his side, one arm under his bicep, pulling him to his feet. They moved quickly through the trees, not stopping until they found themselves at the landing site. 

“We’re early.” Carolina exhaled heavily, finally taking a moment to rest. Maine kept his eyes towards the forest, ready for anything that came their way. It wasn’t likely that they would be attacked again, Maine recalling how easy it had been to escape when he had infiltrated this base a few months ago with Agent North Dakota and Agent Washington. Project Freelancer deemed the base small enough for a complete destruction of the facility, and sent two of its heaviest hitters in to deal with it. The two freelancers sat back to back now, resting their weight against the other. 

“You know, I haven’t really seen you a lot lately,” Carolina started, her breathing still a little labored, “you’re spending a lot of time with Agent Washington these days huh?” She didn’t seem angry, only genuinely curious. “You know...after the beach…”

“What about it?” Maine bristled at...whatever she may have been implying.

“Nothing, it just seemed...you two just seem close, that’s all. I guess I didn’t picture Washington as someone you’d be friends with. You don’t think he’s kind of annoying?”

“No.”

“Interesting…” Carolina didn’t have to see Maine’s face to know what he was thinking, didn’t need him to speak at all. “I just don’t really get it.”

“York.”

“...Touché.” Carolina’s head turned upwards and she saw the airship appear in the distance. “So it’s like that then? I mean, if you’re comparing my feelings to York to how you feel about Washington…” a cheeky smile appeared on her face, though Maine couldn’t see it, he could imagine it perfectly on her face still. He grunted angrily in response to her insinuation. “Oh stop, you big fucking baby. Being a freelancer doesn’t suddenly turn you into a robot. But you know what I’m gonna say already about...staying focused. And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what the rules are when it comes to becoming involved with other freelancers. So if you’re gonna do it, be fucking discreet. No more hand holding on the beach.”

Maine turned around to face her suddenly. He didn’t think she had seen that much.

“Yeah. Exactly. You’re lucky it was me and not someone else.” Carolina stared at him for a moment, her eyes seemingly piercing through his suit, reading his face. “...You haven't even kissed him, huh?” she laughed, a genuine laugh that came seldomly from Carolina, “That’s kind of cute. You’re like middle schoolers with ‘wittle cwushes’, awww..” she teased.

Maine raised his middle finger to her, standing now as the airship made its landing. The two were silent on the way back to the Mother of Invention, Maine trying _not_ to think about what Carolina had said earlier. He put it out of his mind for the time being, it didn’t really matter anyway. He was almost certain Washington was too drunk to remember that night, as he hadn’t mentioned it since. By the time he reached his quarters the thought was gone, though it had lingered in his mind for the duration of his time in the showers. He settled in his room, switching positions restlessly as he read his book. Maine couldn’t remember the last time he was able to read for hours, he didn’t even notice when Washington entered the room, lost in the world between the pages. Until he felt something land firmly in his lap. When he raised his head he saw a protein bar resting on his legs, as well as a bottle of water. He looked to Washington, who was changing into something clean, and then picked up the bottle of water. Then he looked to the clock on the wall, realizing how late it was, and that he had forgotten to eat. That was unusual for him and he was happy Washington had noticed.

“Whatcha reading?” Washington asked as he slipped a shirt over his head. He was surprised it took Washington this long to ask. Without a word, Maine reached into one of the drawers with his free hand, pulling out a different book, and tossed it at Washington.

“Lover Avenged...a novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood…” Washington grinned, raising an eyebrow at Maine, who, not ashamed in the least, shrugged. “So it’s a series?” Maine nodded at Washington in response. “Okay, I’ll give it a read.” 

Washington flopped down in his bed, opening the book up. Maine was not expecting this response, but he felt pleased by Washington’s interest. The both read together in silence, Maine consuming the protein bar quickly, realizing how hungry he was. Perhaps he would take a late night trip to the mess hall later, but for now he stayed, glancing over at Washington every now, trying to gauge his reaction. Washington didn’t give anything away with his facial expressions, only turned the pages and continued to read quietly. After about an hour though, he set down the book quickly.

“Maine, this is porn.” 

“It’s not porn.” Maine stated defensively, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“ _‘“Slip your hand under your panties. And tell me what you find.” There was a pause. “Oh, God...I'm wet.”’_ ” Washington read in the most dramatic tone he could muster. 

“You’re reading ahead.” Maine knew that scene wasn’t for several more chapters.

“I had a theory and I wanted to confirm it. It’s porn.”

“It’s not porn, there’s a story.”

“Okay, maybe there is a story, but that doesn’t make it not porn. And not just any porn, girl porn.” Washington laughed. Maine was unbothered by the idea of reading ‘girl porn’. He liked what he liked, and only answered Washington with a shrug. “I mean...for what it’s worth, it's not that bad, the sex scenes seemed to be pretty spaced out.” 

The two sat in silence for a moment after this, Maine realizing that Washington’s face was now bright red. Either from embarrassment or...no, he wasn’t going to think about that. Washington seemed to get more flustered in the silence and he changed the subject. The subject however made Maine feel worse than the one they had previously been discussing. Washington _remembered_.

“You know...you never showed me that picture. Of you, when you had hair.” Washington’s gaze was stuck to the floor as he swung both legs over the side of the bed. 

Maine moved quietly, reaching directly under his mattress, searching around for a moment. He wondered why Washington had not said something in the weeks that had passed, and then pulled the photo from the mattress, holding it up for Washington who had moved to sit next to Maine on his bed. It was old, obviously, most people didn’t keep physical copies of photos anymore to begin with. The picture depicted Maine and his mother, a tall woman with long, curly, salt and pepper hair, her arms wrapped around the bicep of her son, as if she needed him to stand. In many ways, she did. Maine was 19 in this photo, in fact it was his birthday, as was scribbled on the back of the photo. He looked just like his mother, square jaws, large noses, sunken in eyes, the same closed mouth grins. Most of all, the same hair, dark wild ringlet curls sitting messily on their heads. They looked happy. Washington smiled as he looked over the image. 

“That’s your mom? She’s pretty.” Maine thought she looked tired. Maine thought _he_ looked tired. Washington held the photo up, as if comparing it to the man he was seeing in front of him. “I like your hair, actually. You should grow it out.”

Maine gave his usual grunt-laugh in response. 

“No- I mean it. It looks good. Better than my floppy hair. Do you see how much gel I have to use just to get it to stay up?” The two laughed a little together, falling back into silence as Maine tucked the photo back under his bed, and then returned his gaze to Washington. He looked like he wanted to say something, his lips parted slightly like the words were just about to come out, yet nothing did. Not that I would have mattered, because just moments later, The Director’s voice boomed over the PA systems, red lights flashing in their room. Every freelancer that had a notable position on the leaderboard was called in for briefing. A mission so suddenly was rarely a good sign.


	4. Stigmata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Maine and Agent Washington find themselves in a disagreement.

The sun rose over the newly colonized planet just as Washington and the others made their way towards the rendezvous site. Washington took the turret, York arguing with him over it, until Washington pointed out that it did make him the biggest target, causing York to quickly take his spot as the passenger. South drove, complaining that she got the two most _annoying_ teammates in the entirety of Project Freelancer. Agent Wyoming, Agent North Dakota, and Agent Maine took the other route, both squads directed to clear out any hostiles, as well as direct any remaining civilians to evacuate immediately. Florida and CT were running recon above ground in Pelican grade ships, the eyes and ears of the operation. Carolina was...well, actually, Washington didn’t know where she was. She had been briefed before the rest of the freelancers, and hadn’t been seen at all. 

Alien forces had moved in on the planet, but their lack of numbers was suspicious. The UNSC suspected an ulterior motive for this, some kind of trap, hence why they chose a selection of freelancers to move in instead of any ordinary soldiers. Washington didn’t think it had been either, as this planet was previously a no-man's land, both species operating on this planet until the UNSC eventually drove the aliens out. He found it more likely that they had been there the whole time, but the UNSC was mistrustful, assuming the worst possibility. But why would they only send out a few soldiers at a time? And seemingly kill at random? It didn’t make sense. The call came in after multiple civilian casualties, and the culprits were still at large. Their orders were simple, gather intel and eliminate hostiles.

Once both teams met at the rendezvous point, waiting, as North reported that Carolina was, apparently, on her way. The two teams sat quietly, Washington unnerved slightly by the sound of nothing but the wind howling over the hills, there were no birds, no human technology or activity from the nearby farms to be heard. It didn’t take long for this silence to be broken by Agent Carolina’s entrance, the sound of her M724 Mongoose growing louder as she approached.

“After talking to some of the locals and scouting the area I’ve been able to locate where they’ve been hiding this whole time. There’s a small crop farm sitting past these hills, isolated from most of the town. The civilians in this area say they’ve seen the family in town recently, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but after the attacks started no one has seen any of them. Could be they heard about what happened and are hiding to protect themselves, more likely they are dead. Based on what CT and Florida have gathered from above, there aren’t any other places that could provide shelter in the area and also keep them from being detected. North, South, and York will secure a perimeter, ensuring none of the aliens make it out of the building. Don’t think you’ve got the easy job, expect runners. Washington, Maine, Wyoming and I are on the inside.” Carolina didn’t miss a beat when briefing the team. She seemed confident, which was a good sign.

But something was still bothering him. As the two teams made their way down the pass between the hills, Washington couldn’t help but to ask.

“Why aren’t we taking any prisoners?” 

“I-what?!” He didn’t really want South’s opinion, but okay, sure. “Does it matter? They killed innocent people.”

“I mean- I just think...well I don’t know. I just thought maybe they’d be kept as war criminals or something. I know we’d end up having to fight most of them, and maybe it would come down to all of them dying if none of them wanted to give up the fight. You don’t think it's weird that we weren’t even given the directive to take prisoners if possible?”

“I don’t think it’s that deep, but to entertain your question...imagine you’re the father of one of the civilians killed. What would you want? If the aliens on this planet aren’t important enough to keep as prisoners, it only serves to provide quick justice, you know? Boosts the UNSC in the eyes of the people. It might seem...well- it might not look good if you only take it as a ploy for the UNSC to gain favor. But like South said, they killed people. Innocent people.” York chimed in just as South was beginning to make an argument, all three of them growing quiet afterwards. Washington found this answer acceptable, a win win...well, not for the aliens though. But he supposed the feelings of murderers didn’t really matter in the end. 

It didn’t take long for them to approach the farm, their property mostly boxed in by the hills surrounding it, only one road leading in and out. It seemed to Washington they liked their privacy. All three vehicles stopped about 120 yards from the actual house the residents must have resided in, everyone piling out quickly. Washington took his place with Maine, Carolina and Wyoming, the other three spreading out, taking in the property, looking for any other possible exits. The four freelancers took the dirt road leading directly to the front of the house, Washington taking note of the state of their crops. They were well kept, if the family had been killed, it had not been very long ago at all. A day ago at the most. As he looked around the front of the yard, he became burdened with melancholic thoughts, spotting a tricycle for a small child turned over in the grass. He ran his hand over the white wooden fence that ran along the path, thinking of the family who had lived here, the family that was likely dead. In this moment, he understood what York was saying on the ride here, this time without words needed to justify the bloodshed. 

Agent Carolina approached the front door, locked, with no one seemingly home, as there was no movement at all through the windows. Before anyone even got a word in about possible ways in, Maine had already kicked the door entirely off its hinges, moving into the house after, immediately checking if the coast was clear. It was entirely silent other than the sound of the floorboard creaking.

“Unsettling…” Wyoming commented, “No sign of the civilians who lived here, dead or alive.”

“Wyoming and Washington, take the upper level. Keep your comms online, let us know if you find anything.” Carolina and Maine made their way through the ground level, Wyoming and Washington following their directives.

Just like the lower level though, upstairs seemed to be just as devoid of life. But nothing out of order either. No blood, no bodies, nothing. A master bedroom, three bedrooms, two obviously belonging to small children, and a bathroom. It gave Agent Washington a little bit of hope. Maybe they’d gotten out. But then why had no one in the town seen them? Or maybe they were buried somewhere in those fields...but , why would aliens care about cleaning up a crime scene? Just as Wyoming and Washington were searching the last bedroom, they heard Carolina over their comms. _Get outside to the back of the house. There’s a cellar._ The two made their way quickly down the stairs and out the back door, finding Carolina and Maine waiting, Carolina with her head close to the cellar doors, listening. Without saying a word to any of them, she nodded at the group and opened the unlocked doors leading down. Any movement heard before was now gone, but there were lights on, just visible past the stairs. 

Carolina made her way down the stairs quickly, not wanting to get caught off guard by whatever she couldn’t see lurking at the bottom. Maine, Wyoming, and then Washington, followed after, and before Washington had gotten half way down the steps, shots were being fired. He heard children scream, both relief and despair shooting through his body all at once. When he was able to see what was going on he was...confused. The cellar had been turned into some sort of...refuge. Most of the aliens seemed to already be wounded, laying in cots, bandaged and broken. Several other aliens, armed, lay dead on the floor, the last of the ones able to fight being picked off quickly by Carolina, Maine and Wyoming. He didn’t notice the woman at first, holding her two children, close to the ages of 10 and 8, huddled between her arms. Another woman, no, a teenage girl, was curled up next to one of the cots, almost not visible, her body shielded by one of the aliens. Wait. What? He was protecting her, or at least it looked like. 

_”WAIT! STOP!”_ a voice rang out before Washington could process the picture in front of him. None of the remaining hostile aliens seemed to be living still, and Washington realized that some aliens that didn’t seem injured at all were entirely unarmed. 

“Please...stop, let my children upstairs at least, spare them this bloodshed.” The father begged, or what Washington assumed as the father, seeing as he was the only adult human male in the room not fully suited in armour. 

Carolina lowered her weapon, considering this for a moment. “Wyoming. Escort the children upstairs, keep them in one room.” 

Hesitant, and needing a bit of a push from their mother, the two children made their way towards the freelancer, Wyoming taking off his helmet and kneeling down to them. A good choice, Washington thought, made him a little less scary, especially with that goofy ass mustache. 

_”Katya”_ Their mother said, in a tone that meant “get your ass upstairs”. She followed the direction, though her defiance was apparent in her facial expression, face twisted in anger. The rest of them stood in silence until the children had left, tension thick in the air. 

“Let us explain…” The father took a single step forward, removing his hat from his head, holding it tightly in one hand. He was trembling ever so slightly. “There is no need to kill the rest. They have done no one any harm. They were dying…” he gestured to the aliens laying in the cots, “Left in the hills after the UNSC took this planet…”

“They’re invading alien forces. Why help them?” Carolina seemed disgusted by the thought.

“They’re not beasts to be put down. Soldiers are not responsible for the crimes of their government,” The woman spat. Washington could see her daughter in her face. “We found them when we settled here, barely alive. Most of them died, but we were able to help a few...or...at least make their last days, or weeks, as comfortable as possible…”

“A few were...not happy still. As you know. They wanted to keep fighting, but we didn’t know. We didn’t know what they would do. When they returned they forced the rest of us to remain here, we could not call for help…” The man spoke quietly, his gentle mannerisms compelling Washington to believe him. 

None of them spoke for a moment, Washington imagined Carolina to be weighing her options in her head. 

“Maine, Washington, no one leaves this room.” She said, before making her way up to the stairs. 

“You have to understand...they aren’t monsters…” The woman began, but after this gained no response from either freelancer, she grew quiet.

Washington felt bad for them. They clearly meant good, and from what Washington had seen earlier...not all of the aliens here were hostile. Some had seemingly grown close, protective over the family even. The grey morality of the situation was not lost on him. Many times he had considered what it might be like to be on the other side, to have to fight for the alien military. What propaganda were their people being fed? Ultimately, when he made his decision to join the UNSC, it didn’t matter. Innocent people were dying and he was going to do something about it, regardless of how he felt about the soldier on the other side. Yet...this situation made him feel uncertain. Before he had more time to ponder the situation, Carolina was in their ears. 

_I’ve got orders from command. Agent Washington, remove the civilians from the cellar._

Washington felt his heart sink into his stomach as he heard the order, but did as he was told. The two civilians seemed to catch on as well, insisting that _they weren’t monsters_ , over and over, but ultimately did not push Agent Washington to using force in order to get them up the stairs. They pleaded as they were led away from the house, towards where Wyoming was standing with the children. 

“What’s going to happen to them?” Washington turned to Agent Carolina.

“They’ll be put into custody for questioning, further than that, it’s not our business. C’mon, we’ve got a mission to finish. You’ll know what to do.”

Washington followed Carolina back down the stairs, his head already pounding with guilt at every step. He knew what was coming, back that didn’t make it easy. Without needing to tell either of them what came next, Agent Carolina raised her firearm, gunning down the able bodied aliens in quick succession. The rest seemed to scramble a few trying to make their way to the weapons of the fallen aliens to protect themselves. They didn’t get very far though. Agent Washington hesitated, standing there for a moment, watching the scene unfold before him. How could this be so easy for them? Why did they not seem to care? These questions ran through his head, over and over until...until he noticed Carolina staring at him, Maine continuing to kill without seemingly much thought. She was telling him something, warning him without words or even an expression, just the light reflecting off her visor. It felt like another test. _Everything_ in Project Freelancer felt like a test. He was the one who signed up for it though. Slowly, he raised his gun, and pointed it at the nearest alien. The rest of him seemed to go into autopilot, moving although he had no control. He could see himself, see himself from the outside, carrying out the carnage, but he couldn’t feel it, not really. 

“I’m surprised. Didn’t think you could hack it.” 

“Huh?” And just like that, Washington was back, only they were standing outside now, waiting for evac. 

“I thought you were too soft. When you made the leaderboard I wagered you’d be off within the first couple of months. Thought you couldn’t take it in the field, and you proved me wrong. Not by much, but you did. When I got the order today I figured ‘this will be it, he’s out’. And yet here you are.” Carolina didn’t look at him as she spoke, only stared upwards towards the sky. 

“Uhm...thanks, I think.” Was that supposed to be a compliment? It didn’t feel like one, but hey, this was the first time Carolina had said anything to Washington that wasn’t an order. 

Agent Washington kept replaying the events in his head on their way back to the Mother of Invention, trying to process how he felt. In his days with the UNSC he would have refused the order, so what changed? The more he thought the more he began to boil, growing from frustrated to furious in a short manner of time. Everyone else seemed...fine, really, though he didn’t know how much everyone on the outside knew of the situation. But Carolina and Maine, how could they feel okay with this? On one hand he understood the order to eliminate aliens on a colonized planet but...but they weren’t even fighting back. Yet the two other freelancers didn’t even hesitate. These thoughts played over in his head as the night went on. He barely ate, instead his focus stayed on Maine while they sat in the mess hall. It was Maine that surprised and angered him most.

When Maine made his way back to their quarters, Washington found himself following, something strange taking over as the door to their room shut behind him. Maine exhaled heavily and turned to face him, almost as if he knew something was wrong.

“So what the fuck was all that?!” Washington immediately bursted, a small chihuahua yipping at a great dane. Maine looked at him like he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. “Don’t play dumb, Maine. That wasn’t right. We massacred them.”

“You sound like a child.” 

“A child?” Washington scoffed. “Sorry, my bad for thinking that we were a little better than killing unarmed and injured aliens. And don’t say ‘it was orders’, that’s a cop out.”

“You still did it.” Maine’s demeanor was calm still, his face unchanging, which only seemed to piss Washington off more.

“I know. I know.” Washington almost sounded defeated for a moment. “But at least it fucking bothered me. You didn’t even fucking flinch. I just thought…”

“You’re an idealist. It doesn’t work that way.” Maine startled to shuffle around the room now, grabbing a clean pair of clothes from his drawers. 

“I’m not stupid for thinking we should hold ourselves to higher standards. I just didn’t think you’d be like...that.”

“Forget what you _think_ you know about me.” Maine snapped suddenly as he moved past Washington toward the door. 

“Oh! Nice! I guess it's all an act then right? Poor Liam, putting on a sad show for me, when he was really just a monster this whole time!” Washington was yelling now, forcing laughter out, poking in areas he knew he probably shouldn’t. But he was too angry to care. 

Maine didn’t look at him as he swung their door open silently. To both of their surprise, York was standing there in his boxers, holding a soda can, with a ‘whoops I’ve been caught’ expression plastered on his face. He started to speak, stuttering an apology before Maine pushed past him. _The fuck are you looking at?_ he spoke in a low voice as he shouldered York out of the way with enough force to knock the smaller freelancer back to the wall. Washington and York just stared at each other for a moment, Washington starting to come back to his senses.

“You think that was...too much?” Washington rubbed the back of his neck, guilt setting in quickly.

“Yeah- I mean. Yep. That was pretty rough. You’ve got some pretty big balls though yelling at Maine, I’ll give you that. I uh- I’m gonna head to bed now…”

“Don’t tell anyone about that, please.”

“Oh trust me, I’m not gonna. If word gets around that I spread it I’m one hundred precent sure Maine would rip my fucking head off, quite literally.”

Washington was relieved to hear it, but the relief was short lived. He spent the next hour laying restlessly in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark. Why did he get so angry? What were any of them supposed to do in that position? Say no? They would have sent soldiers to kill the aliens anyway, it didn’t really matter, and then all three of them would have been in deep shit. He felt sick thinking about it. Why did it have to be like this? No matter where he went, UNSC or Project Freelancer, things always got ugly. He joined to help people, but there was always some unsavory work to be done. Maybe he was too idealistic. Maybe he needed to let it go.   
When Maine entered the room, he immediately crawled into bed, and switched on a small light on his side of the room. Neither of them said anything as Maine settled down with one of his books. Washington kept playing the words over in his head, the mocking tone in his voice when he called Maine by his first name. The thing was, even though he had been angry with Maine, he still _really_ liked him, so why did he say that?

“I’m sorry.” Washington blurted out after a few minutes, his eyes peeled on the ceiling above him. “I shouldn’t of said that. Any of that. It was fucked up, and I’m sorry. You’re right, everything you said was right.”

Maine didn’t respond, he only turned his body to face the smaller freelancer. Guilt crept up through Washington’s body.

“Maine…” Washington reached out, his arm stretching as far as he possibly could. It took a moment, but Maine reached out as well, though their hands barely met. Instead, they linked their pointer fingers together, letting their hands dangle there. Washington found himself staring into Maine’s eyes. He thought it might of been awkward at any other time, but right now it felt strangely intimate. His dark blue-grey eyes reminiscent of clouds forming before a storm, the crows feet barely pressed into his face. At one point in time he thought Maine’s face had a fierceness about it, his strong brow and intense gaze. Now there was something else, he saw someone worn through years of labor and sorrow. The more Wash thought about it, the more he realized that it was both. Maine’s ferocity pushed by his grief, Liam’s grief pulled along by his ferocity. One could not exist without the other anymore. 

He stared at their linked fingers for a moment, wondering what it meant. It was hard to guess with Maine sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. As these thoughts ran through his head he had another realization. A realization that was not quite as pleasant. This idea that he had polished Maine so that he’d always look best in his head.

“I want to know you.” Past the amour, past just a little bit of backstory, Washington wanted to know Maine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop notes are at the end now  
> this chapter took me a little longer bc i wanted to do it some justice  
> again everytime i think that things are gonna start speeding up it ends up being even more slow burn   
> but i think its fitting for these two <3


End file.
